


A Heart is a Heavy Burden

by Luz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Wizards, First Time, M/M, this isn't very kinky at all sry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2196294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luz/pseuds/Luz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is a wizard living and practicing in the quaint seclusion of Woody End. Louis and Harry are his young apprentices. Liam is their new neighbor. Magical hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart is a Heavy Burden

It’s a lovely spring afternoon in Woody End.  The sun shines through the newly budded branches of the canopy and filters down to feed the sprouting wildflowers of the forest floor. Rabbits sit chewing the young clover in their nervous way while butterflies dance erratically between the beams of sunlight.

A bird sings brightly on the windowsill of a small cottage nestled in the heart of the woods, just a minute’s walk from the earthen path that winds through its center. Just inside the open window, a frustrated wizard sits, gazing into a cauldron of clear purple liquid. It is Zayn Malik’s first attempt to brew this particular love potion, and it’s proving more complex than he’d taken it for. He’s never been very good at love potions, anyway.

He can hear  his assistants through the door to his workshop, giggling about something that’s probably completely inconsequential. They were supposed to be out finding fresh ingredients, or maybe it was tending the animals or weeding the herb patch. At any rate, they aren’t doing what they’re supposed to be doing, but Zayn supposes that’s rather comforting. At least business is going about as usual. He’d be rather frightened if Louis and Harry suddenly started obeying his orders.

“You two!” he calls suddenly, fed up with their noise. “Come in here.”

The heavy wooden door flies open with an unnecessary bang, and Louis comes striding in with Harry shuffling along in tow.

Zayn raises an eyebrow at them, doing his best to look as unimpressed as possible. “You’re supposed to be weeding the herbs.”

“Feeding the chickens,” Louis says snippily, “and we’re through with that.”

“Weed the herbs, then,” Zayn tells him blandly, attention back on the set of instructions in front of him.

Louis groans. “We’ve been doing nothing but hard labour all morning while you slept in!”

“Yeah,” Harry adds in the wounded sounding baritone that he probably thinks will evoke sympathy from Zayn.

“Can’t we help with this potion?” Louis asks hopefully, peering at the contents of the cauldron in interest. The liquid has begun to hiss and bubble angrily. “Doesn’t really look like you’ve got it going your way, here.”

Zayn snaps his book closed and glares up at the pair. “If you wanted to help, you would just go and be quiet somewhere. This is very advanced magic and I wouldn’t expect either of you to appreciate its complexity.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re forgetting that I majored in enchantments of attraction, Malik.”

“And you’re forgetting that I have years of experience on you,” Zayn retorts. “Not to mention an attention span longer than a field mouse’s. Out.”

Louis turns to go, but not before he pats Zayn’s hair with a cheeky grin. “Try adding a few more rose petals,” he tells him. Harry trails behind him with a grin on his wide mouth as they leave the way they came.

“Walk into town or something,” Zayn calls irritably. “Maybe they’ll like you better there.”

He hears Louis blow a raspberry at him, but then the front door of the cottage swings shut and blessed silence - excepting the bird still chirping at the windowsill - fills the workshop. Zayn sighs. He doesn’t really know what he had been thinking when he’d agreed to take on the two young apprentices who had appeared on his doorstep three months ago. He supposes it has something to do with their promises to cook and clean for him in return for board and training.

It is nice to have someone to take care of the trips into town to deliver the potions that Zayn brews to his customers, and to do the sunrise chores so that Zayn can get to know his bed a little better in the mornings. But Zayn had underestimated the effort it would take to teach the fresh-out-of-school young wizards the intricacies of a craft that had been coming naturally to him for years. Zayn is a very talented wizard, certainly the best in Woody End. Louis and Harry are both bright young men with a natural knack for their own brands of talent, but they are still early on in their educations, and sometimes Zayn isn’t the most patient of teachers.

Forty-five minutes later, Zayn had finally achieved the pale pink that the potion’s instructions called for. (To his annoyance, Louis had been spot-on with his suggestion.) He ladles the liquid into labeled glass vials and stoppers them carefully with cork. He would bring them to the market on Sunday along with the other potions he had brewed that week. Some had been custom ordered, while others he made in large batches. This particular love potion seemed to be in high demand lately among the young girls in town.

Just as he’s debating the merits of tying pink bows around the vials as a marketing ploy, the door of the cottage bangs open. Louis’ light, mincing footsteps and Harry’s heavier, shuffling ones sound outside his doorway.

Louis flings the door open without knocking.  “Guess what, Zayn!” he chirps.

“What,” Zayn deadpans. He’s trying to decide between the peach and ballet pink silk ribbons, and doesn’t really have time for nonsense.

“We think someone’s moving into that old bungalow down the path!” Louis presses on, clearly excited.

Zayn sets down his spool of ribbon, intrigued. “Are you sure?” Nobody had lived in the bungalow for years since the old witch who had built it had passed away.

Harry nods vigorously. “Saw them riding in a wagon from town full of luggage.”

“Did you see who it was?”

Louis shrugs. “No one we recognized from town. Younger guy.”

Zayn raises his eyes. If someone’s moved into the forest, chances are they’re magical folk. Regular people liked to live in flocks, and he doesn’t think that any of them would choose to move into the house of a dead witch. Woody End is a good place to practice magic, too. Zayn likes its privacy, which helps him stay in tune with his powers.  The forest has an abundance of herbs and a deficit of people, just right for this wizard’s sensibilities. Even so, he’s quite curious about this new arrival that Harry and Louis claim to have seen.

“Harry,” he says, “get your crystal ball out, hm? We’ll see if we can find out who’s here.”

Harry has an affinity for a social kind of magic. It’s different from Louis’ specialty for attraction. Louis builds bridges to people, while Harry walks right into them. It’s really a rudimentary sort of divination, and with his crystal ball he’s able to peer into the lives of others.

Harry scurries off eagerly as soon as Zayn mentions it, and returns moments later with the baseball-sized orb. He cradles it in his palms, setting his hands down on Zayn’s worktable and letting Zayn and Louis crowd around him. Harry stares at the ball for a minute, concentration furrowing his brow.

“Ah,” he says softly after a moment. “I think I’ve got him. Oh, yes, he’s taking his luggage out of that carriage. Paying the driver. Very handsome young man.”

“Let me see,” Louis demands.

“Me first,” says Zayn, and snatches the ball from Harry’s grasp.

“Careful!” Harry says. He keeps his fingertips on the crystal to keep fueling the vision as Zayn peers into it. He doesn’t have any extraordinary power for foresight, but he isn’t having any trouble making out the muscular lines of the man unloading his belongings from the rented carriage. Zayn watches the man pull a wand out of his back pocket and flick it, making his suitcases and boxes of belongings float along in an orderly line to the front door of the bungalow.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new neighbor, boys,” he tells Harry and Louis, unable to keep a little smile from sneaking onto his face.

*

Zayn is just about ready to retire for his evening bath. His cat is winding its body around his legs, and he knows she wants him to come to bed so she can go to sleep curled in the crook of his neck.

“All right, Hes?” he mumbles, plucking her up off the ground and letting her wind across his shoulders so she’s draped over his neck. Hester’s a good familiar, always there with her comforting purr when Zayn is troubled. Excellent mouser, as well - Zayn doesn’t kid himself, he knows the cottage would be infested if it weren’t for her with the way they leave food lying.

He twirls Hester’s dark tail with a finger and wanders in the direction of his bedroom and nearly collides into Harry, who has just bounded out of the kitchen with a bundle of something in his arms. Hester yowls in surprise and jumps off Zayn’s neck, digging in with her back claws as she departs.

“Look,” Harry says breathlessly. “I made them for the new neighbor.”

Zayn gazes dubiously at the basket of cookies, rubbing his neck. They look like small, flat rocks to him, but Harry’s clearly put in a lot of effort. He’s garnished the basket with little mint leaves and even tied a gaudy green satin bow around the handle.

“You two can do whatever you want,” he says slowly. “I’m going in for the night.”

Louis waggles his eyebrows from where he’s sitting in Zayn’s armchair. “You don’t want us to get the first crack at him, do you?” He leers at Zayn. “Besides, when’s the last time you spoke to someone besides Harry or I? I know we’re wonderful, but honestly. We need to work on your social life.”

Zayn scowls. He really does want to meet this new fellow, but arriving on his doorstep with cookies that are probably burnt accompanied by these two isn’t the kind of first impression he’s hoping for. He turns for his bedroom. “Maybe tomorrow, I’m tired...”

Louis and Harry are on him, then, one on each arm. Zayn’s sounds of protest are ignored as they frog-march him out the door of the cottage. They’re both stronger than him, so finally Zayn just sighs and gives up. He should really have known better than to turn his back on them. “Fine. Let go of me. But we aren’t staying long, he’s probably busy trying to settle in.”

“Don’t worry, Zayn,” Harry says cheerfully. “We’ll just introduce ourselves. Then you can go back to your boring ways.”

Louis laughs at this, and Harry beams.  Zayn grits his teeth and follows them reluctantly through the trees to the path, even though his feet ache. He half-listens to them gossip about all the latest news from town and corrects them as he sees fit. The pair are great friends with the local bartender, Niall, and he keeps them caught up with all the happenings. Zayn doesn’t see what’s so interesting about who’s been sleeping with who and who got drunk and knocked over a pub table last weekend, but his apprentices have always been busybodies. Zayn has tried to think back to when he was fresh out of school, to remember whether he was ever as eager and talkative as Louis and Harry are. He doesn’t think so. Louis and Harry’s powers seem to be refueled by the time they spend with people, while Zayn needs time alone to accomplish the same.

“We’re almost there!” calls Harry. He looks like a veritable red riding hood, walking along jauntily with his wide smile and basket of cookies swinging from one hand. He’s right - Zayn can see the beginning of the walkway to the front door of the house. They round the last bend, and suddenly the bungalow is fully visible. Zayn feels his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and Louis whistles lowly.

The rundown cottage that they’re so used to passing seems to have grown legs and scuttled away. In its place is a tidy, well-kept house that’s barely recognizable. The broken shutters have been mended and painted a cheery shade of yellow - in fact, the entire house has a fresh coat of paint. Daffodils bloom in the flowerbeds that used to be choked with weeds and the thorny vines that crept up the house’s walls are gone, replaced by towering sunflowers. A chorus of birds chirps from the tree in the corner of the yard laden with large white blooms.

Zayn rounds on Louis and Harry. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

They’re both gawking. “It wasn’t like this!” Louis yelps. “He must have done all this in the time between now and when we took that walk. But that was only a few hours ago. How..?”

“Hello, there!” comes a booming voice from the entrance to the house. The man from Harry’s crystal ball is standing outside his newly screened front door, smiling so wide that his eyes are crinkling up and waving a cheery hand at his visitors.

Louis and Harry break into matching grins immediately, and trot up the walkway at the beckoning of the man. Zayn follows more cautiously, eyeing the newly sprouted blossoms in suspicion. Everything is a little too idyllic to sit right with him.

“Hello, boys,” the man chirps. “Are you from down the road? I thought I saw you when I was riding in.”

Louis nods. “I’m Louis, and this is Harry.”

The smile becomes impossibly wider. “Liam,” he says, as though the exchange of names is the most exciting thing to happen to him since he popped his first charm. His big brown eyes turn onto Zayn’s, smile unwavering. “And you?”

Zayn swallows, disarmed by the cheeriest demeanor he’s encountered in months. “It’s Zayn.” Liam offers a hand and he shakes it gingerly, his slender fingers swallowed up by Liam’s big hand.

“Come in! I’ve just put the tea on,” Liam tells them.

“We really just -” Zayn starts, but Liam cuts him off.

“Really, I insist. I was so worried that I’d be the only one living out here in these big woods.” He holds the door open in welcome, and Zayn has no choice but to follow Louis and Harry inside.

Liam’s chattering about something, but none of them are really listening. The inside of the house is just as tidy as the exterior - not at all what one would expect of a house abandoned up until hours ago - but that’s not what’s caught their attention. The house is alive with creatures.

Small birds perch on the exposed rafters of the ceiling, occasionally swooping across the room.  A family of hedgehogs is curled up on an overstuffed armchair, little black eyes peeping open to examine the visitors. Zayn can hear a symphony of frogs croaking from the bathroom, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when a small snake slithers across his path.

Even Louis is speechless for a moment, and then “You really got this place cleaned up fast!”

Liam turns his twinkling gaze on Louis. “I tried out a few new tidying enchantments. It was all I could do to get things clean before all these visitors showed up! I apologize for them, they’ve really made themselves at home and I could never bring myself to turn them out.”

He leads them into the kitchen, whistling.  A small, muddy-brown dog with floppy ears is trotting behind him and Zayn can instantly tell that the dog is Liam’s familiar.

“So,” Liam begins conversationally as he pulls the whistling kettle from the stove. “How long have you been around Woody End?”

“I’ve lived here for about five years now, ever since I graduated from school,” Zayn replies. “These two have been apprenticing with me since winter.”

Liam nods enthusiastically as he shoos some sparrows off the table and puts down four saucers and teacups. “I moved in here so I could keep practicing my magic, you see. I specialize in natural magic, so Woody End seemed like a better place to be than the big city.”

“We brought you cookies!” Harry pipes up, offering his basket to Liam. Zayn cringes, because he catches a bitter whiff of something burnt as the basket moves.

But the expression on Liam’s face makes Zayn wonder if he’s ever seen cookies before. “Thank you very much, Harry!” he says earnestly. “Did you make these yourself?”

Harry beams and nods. He loves being spoken to like a five-year-old. Zayn doesn’t know how Liam has this figured out already, but it’s obvious that he’s got both Louis and Harry won over. Zayn makes a mental note to teach them not to trust overly friendly strangers so easily.

It’s then that he looks down into his teacup and shrieks, because there is a mouse sleeping in it. The entire table looks at him in mild surprise and Zayn gestures wordlessly at his cup, already embarrassed. Liam’s mouth falls open when he sees the mouse and Zayn prepares himself for a barrage of apologetic shame.

“I’m so sorry,” Liam says, bolting up from his chair. “I’m not used to having guests - well, human ones, at least - and I know that’s no excuse - here - let me -” He scoops up the mouse, which yawns, and deposits it on the sill of the open kitchen window. Zayn watches as he whispers sternly to it. Louis and Harry are both sniggering openly at him, mocking his sound of surprise. He sends them a dirty look.

When Liam returns with a fresh teacup he’s still spouting apologies, but Zayn interrupts him. “It’s fine. Really. It just surprised me.” He gives Liam what he hopes looks like a warm smile.

He thinks he catches a glimpse of a blush on Liam’s cheeks, but he turns away too quickly to be certain.

The tea is good, if a little weak. Liam dumps three whole lumps of sugar into his cup and offers the little bowl to Zayn, who declines. Liam chats with Louis and Harry as they drink their tea, but Zayn stays mostly silent. He’s paying attention, though - both to what he hears and what he sees around him. Liam has bundles of dried plants hanging around his kitchen, and Zayn recognizes most of them. Anise for purity. Morning glories for tranquility. All things that Zayn would expect of someone so apparently virtuous as Liam. There’s one, though, that he doesn’t recognize, faded gold flowers and pale narrow leaves hanging in at least a dozen places around the house. He commits to looking it up later in his identification guide.

After what seems like much longer than it should take to finish the teapot, Liam stretches and yawns. Zayn takes the initiative.

“It’s about time to get going, I think, lads,” he says. “Don’t want to keep Liam here up too late.”

Louis and Harry smile and push back their chairs. “Nice meeting you Liam,” they chorus, more or less in unison. Liam smiles widely yet again.

“I hope to see you around again soon,” he says, and directs it not only at them but at Zayn too. Zayn does another fake smile and nods. “It’s nice to have you in the neighborhood.”

Liam sees them to the door and waves them off into the dark. Zayn leads the way home, eager to concoct some sort of evil, poisonous brew to offset the last hour.

“What’s up with you?” Louis demands. “You were quiet enough.”

Zayn shrugs. “Just not my kind of conversation.”

Louis scoffs. “What? Are you afraid he’ll disturb your aura?"

Zayn shoves him, but it doesn't keep the two of them from heckling him for the entire walk home. Why had he ever thought that it would be a good idea to take on apprentices, of all things?

*

Zayn goes straight to bed that night, and Liam doesn’t cross his mind again until the next afternoon when he’s flipping through one of his old textbooks in search of a good substitute for the spearmint that’s out of season.  Something he catches a glimpse of makes him flip back a page, and suddenly the mystery plant from Liam’s kitchen is staring up at him. He recognizes the wide, flat-faced golden flowers. _Fernleaf yarrow_ , the book says. _Achillea filipendulina. Common name: cloth of gold. Uses: enhancing animal communication._ Zayn snorts. Of course.

 

*

When Zayn wakes up the next morning, it’s to the nearly foreign image of his bedroom cast in the pale grey of early morning. He doesn’t remember the last time he was up before the sun had a chance to properly rise, but all he can see is its first feeble rays through the bottom edge of his curtains. He’s halfway through wondering why he’s awake already when the second set of knocks sounds at the front door.

The postman doesn’t usually arrive until the afternoon, but Zayn supposes he might be coming early with a parcel. He slouches down the hallway to the door and peers suspiciously through the little window of glass set into it. His eyes pop cartoonishly when Liam’s smiling visage greets him, peeking through the pane. Zayn opens the door with slightly sweaty palms.

“Hello,” says Liam brightly. “I brought a pie.” His little dog is sitting on its haunches next to him, looking up at Zayn with an expression almost identical to its master’s.

Zayn blinks once and considers heading back to bed right then. The dark purple filling of the pie that Liam is holding is criss-crossed with lattice on top (who even takes the time to do that?) and there’s a dollop of cream in the center.

He glances at the face of the grandfather clock in the hallway. “It’s seven-thirty,” he croaks.

Liam’s eyes widen. “Did I wake you up?” he gasps, as if he’s only just noticing Zayn’s crumpled pyjamas and half-dead expression. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice the time.”

Zayn puts his hand up. “It’s fine - but you made this pie today? How early did you get up?”

“Oh, I always get up with the sunrise. It’s the best time to hear the birds,” Liam says brightly.

Zayn just stares, wondering for about the hundredth time if Liam is actually a real person.

“Are we talking about pie?” comes a voice from near Zayn’s ear. Harry and Louis each have a sleepy chin on one of his shoulders, gazing at Liam and the pie.

“Blueberry.” Liam beams.

“Come on in, Liam,” Louis says jovially.

“Oh - do you mind if Pip comes, too? I don’t think I introduced you the other night, but he’s my familiar,” Liam says, gesturing to the dog.

“Don’t worry about-” Zayn starts, but just as Pip trots across the threshold Hester is darting at him, hissing and spitting with a bottlebrush tail and flattened ears. Pip whines and falls back to Liam’s feet.

Zayn frowns and picks up Hester, who goes lax in his arms. “Sorry,” he mutters to Liam, and carries her to his bedroom.

Hester stares at him reproachfully as he dumps her on his bed. “I know,” Zayn sighs. “Just take one for the team, would you?” She settles onto her front paws, gaze unwavering.

Liam, Harry, and Louis are already chatting and laughing  around the kitchen table when he arrives, and it occurs to Zayn that he should probably be a little bit embarrassed. Where Liam’s house was full of pristine surfaces and seemed to have a natural gleam about it, Zayn’s countertops are piled with crusty dishes, old spell books, crumpled bits of parchment, and even some dirty clothes. Most of it is compliments of Louis and Harry, who never learned to clean up after themselves, but there’s no denying that the numerous tiny scorch marks littering what’s visible of the dining room table are primarily Zayn’s fault. He has a small penchant for smoking different herbs just to see how they’ll feel and he doesn't always bother to dab his hand-rolled cigarettes out on something they won't blemish.

Zayn clears away the twisted wreckage of an old cauldron he’d imploded when he added the wrong ingredient from the table so there’s room to put the pie down. The others sit down while he begins the search for acceptably clean dishware. Liam has his hands set daintily on his lap so he isn’t touching any surface in the kitchen.

“I’m so glad you brought us pie for breakfast,” Harry says. “Usually Zayn only lets us have gruel.”

“That’s not true,” calls Zayn, voice muffled from where he’s elbows-deep in a cupboard. Finally, he emerges with some mismatched plates and a meat cleaver he didn’t know he owned that makes Liam’s eyes go wide. Brushing the dust off everything, he cuts the pie with the cleaver.

“Sorry about the mess,” he says to Liam. “This place could really use a cleaning.”

Liam nods sympathetically. “I could help, if you like.”

Zayn laughs. “Thanks for the offer, but I can’t make you do that. You were cleaning all day yesterday.”

“But I like to clean! I really do, and I know lots of cleaning enchantments. We could have this place looking like new in a matter of hours.”

Zayn shakes his head. “I’m not subjecting you to that. I don’t even know half of what might be buried in here.”

“If he wants to help, we should let him,” Harry intones. He looks ridiculous - his lips are stained blue from the pie filling, and his hair is still a complete mess from being slept on.

Liam nods vigorously at his words. “We can get started right now.”

Even Louis seems to be on board with the plan, so Zayn relents begrudgingly, his hopes of going back to bed evaporating in an instant. This was really the last thing he was expecting out of the day, but he’s completely outnumbered.

*

This is how Zayn ends up trying not to stare at the backside of his new neighbor, who’s bent over trying to get some scourgifying charm to work on the tile floor that’s sticky with months of stains. Louis and Harry are cheerily scrubbing pots in the sink, working under instruction more effectively than Zayn’s ever seen them. Zayn, meanwhile, is scrambling to clear the room of incriminating items as soon as possible. He’d realized something needed to be done when Liam came across Zayn’s antique dog skull and spent a few tense moments with a trembling lower lip.

Suddenly, a resounding crack echoes through the kitchen. Everyone jumps, Pip yelps, and Liam squeals, but the floor is suddenly spotless under their feet.

“It worked!” Liam beams, brandishing his wand proudly. He looks so pleased that Zayn can’t help but smile back at him, forgetting momentarily about the book of dirty charms he needs to find before Liam does.

*

“You like him.”

Zayn’s eyes narrow, peeking over the top of the volume he's studying. Harry is looking at him expectantly, his ferret peeking out from below his curls where he’s draped over Harry’s shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“Liam. You like him.”

Zayn’s silent for a moment, weighing the benefits of denying it and deciding that it just isn’t worth the trouble.

“And your point?” he asks instead, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry just smiles smugly back at him, returning his gaze to the knitting in his lap.

*

Zayn has the door to his study open in an attempt to let in some fresh air while he pores over a dusty old book that he found in the back of a closet. The kitchen might be spotless, now, but no one’s touching the carefully arranged chaos of his workroom.

Louis passes the room, eyeing Zayn a little suspiciously, and then backs up so he’s in the doorway again.

“What are you up to now?”

Zayn snaps his gaze up. “What?”

“You’ve got a manic, sex-crazed gleam in your eye,” Louis says in an accusatory tone. “This has got something to do with Liam.”

“Just look at this,” Zayn says, ignoring Louis’ digs. He has the book open to a page that details a spell he has never heard of until now.

“The Romance Revealed Incantation?” Louis reads aloud. “What kind of book is this?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “A useful one. Here, look at the rest.”

Louis reads for a minute, eyes narrowed. “...So, you think that this spell is going to make every person that Liam has ever had sex with appear out of thin air.”

Zayn nods.

“In our house.”

“In my house. Just think how this will simplify things. I’ll be able to tell in an instant if he’s open to my advances without a pesky thing like my gender getting in the way.”

“I don’t really understand,” says Louis slowly. “This spell is just going to yank these people out of their lives and bring them to our doorstep?”

“Inside the boundary marked with river stones,” Zayn reads. “We’ll make one in the garden. It’s really quite rudimentary, haven’t you ever heard of place-shifting before?”

“Last time I place-shifted I left behind an eyebrow,” Louis grumbles.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that,” Zayn says imperiously. “I’m going to get this spell perfect.”

“Doesn’t look like it’ll be easy,” Louis says doubtfully. “Look at these ingredients. Oleander collected at the full moon? It’ll take at least a few weeks to get that.”

“Except that I have some dried in the cellar,” Zayn says craftily. His eyes skim over the list. “I’d say we can have all this gathered by tomorrow evening. Now, find Harry and some buckets. You have river stones to collect.” His eyes narrow at Louis. “And no dawdling, this time. This is a matter of great importance.”

He doesn’t miss the shade of pink that crosses Louis’ cheeks at his words. Zayn knows what goes on when he sends Louis and Harry off unattended. Usually he doesn’t care at all - they’re both easier to handle when they return. But he’s serious, this time. There isn’t a moment to waste.

While Harry and Louis are gone, leaving the house in blessed but eerie silence, Zayn concentrates on some of the trickier aspects of the spell. _A lock of hair from the subject of revelation_ , reads the list. Zayn figures he’ll have to pay Liam a visit, but that’s alright, because the next item is the oil from seven sunflower seeds. There’s only one place he knows of in the woods to find that.

*

“Oh, Liam,” Zayn calls as he knocks on the door. He’s probably going to disturb the tiny nest of baby hummingbirds perched on the sill of the window set into the door, but he doesn’t care.

Liam takes a long time to open the door, and Zayn is about to leave and try again later when the door opens and Liam smiles sheepishly at him.

“Sorry. I was in the shower.”

Zayn can see that. Liam’s got nothing but a towel around his waist, and there are still droplets of water clinging to his abs.

Zayn is so fucked.

He averts his eyes reluctantly. “Hi. I was just wondering if I could borrow some of your sunflower seeds? From your flowers?” He gestures at the bright yellow blossoms.

“Do you need them for a potion?” Liam asks brightly.

“Uh, yeah. To...mend the fractured leg of a pony in town,” Zayn fibs on the spot.

“Oh! Of course. Let me gather some for you.”

Zayn’s mind, seemingly whetted by his first lie, comes up with a wonderful idea.

“Oh, Liam?” he says, trying to keep his tone sweet. “Could I use your bathroom? I just came in from town, you see.”

“Yes, go ahead,” Liam says, eyes wide and trusting.

Humming wickedly to himself, Zayn hurries to the bathroom that he knows is just off the sitting room.

Praising his good luck, Zayn finds the basin of the tub damp. None of Liam’s light brown hair is stuck to the sides, though. He pulls a face as he fishes into the drain to find a strand, but he tucks it away in his pocket and mentally crosses another item off of the list. He leaves the bathroom, being sure to flush the toilet and run the water just in case Liam is listening.

When he steps out, Liam is standing at his dining table, tying a bow of yellow ribbon around a small pouch.

“Here,” he says, handing the little bag to Zayn. “I hope that it’s enough.” Pip is sitting on the floor next to him looking up at Zayn and once again he’s struck by the similarity of their earnest gazes. For once, Liam’s house is silent - no birds chirping or toads croaking. The quiet seems too rare to break, so they let it hang for a beat.

Then Zayn swallows and he feels as though even that echoes around the room. “Ah, thank you. Very much. And I’m sorry for coming at a bad time.”

Liam shakes his head. “It’s never a bad time,” he tells Zayn softly.

Zayn turns a delicate shade of pink, wondering if he’d heard Liam correctly. When he meets his gaze again, Liam’s regular cheery manner has returned.

“Thanks for dropping by. I’m glad I could help!” Almost like clockwork, the noises of the creatures hiding in the crannies of Liam’s home begin sounding again, and Zayn wonders just how in tune Liam might be with his companions.

Zayn nods. “I appreciate it. I’ll see you around, Liam.”

He turns and leaves the cottage, and he’s lighthearted enough that the entire walk home feels like a float through the clouds.

*

“Well, that should do it,” Zayn mutters, straightening up and dusting off his hands. He’s drawn a symbol exactly like the one diagrammed in his book with white chalk on the floorboards of the front porch.

“Are you quite sure this is moral?” Harry asks hesitantly. He’s been quiet and frowning the entire time they’ve been preparing the spell.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Zayn says in exasperation. “Look, we’ll just summon these people into our circle for five minutes and then they’ll be returned to their regular lives with no recollection of what happened. If the instructions have been followed correctly, which they have. Now give me the book.”

Zayn stands on top of the symbol with the book open in his hands. Taking a deep breath, and checking again that the bowls of ingredients are positioned correctly on the edge of the summoning circle, he begins reading the words of the incantation.

It takes a few minutes for the lengthy spell to be read, and Zayn’s anticipation grows with each line. After he speaks the final word, he looks up eagerly, blinks, and draws his eyebrows.

Nothing has changed.

Zayn stares in disbelief. “Try reading it again,” Louis suggests.

Zayn shakes his head. “I know I got it right. I know I got everything right. Why the hell  didn’t it work?” He’s frantically rereading the list of instructions and can’t even find a spot where they might have gotten something wrong. He’d been so sure about every step.

“...Maybe the book is wrong,” Louis ventures, knowing better than to suggest that Zayn is at fault.

“No, I’ve tried other spells from this book. They’re all sound. It should’ve worked.” Zayn’s shoulders sag, his tone crestfallen. “I don’t understand.”

There’s a long pause, and then Harry speaks up.

“Maybe you did get everything right, and it’s a legitimate spell. Maybe it worked, technically, but nothing happened, because there hasn’t been anyone.”

His words hang in the air for a long time as Zayn digests what he’s said. He doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him as a possibility, and now he’s completely unsure how to deal with the information.

“I suppose...you’re right,” he says slowly. “Oh god. Oh my god.” He drops the book and tears into the house, face bright red, and escapes to his room immediately. He isn’t sure whether he should feel incredibly embarrassed, aroused, or hopeful, so he settles for all three. On one hand, he’s excited at the prospect of untouched, virgin Liam and all the things he’d like to show him. On the other, he has the suspicion that Liam might be one of those people who save themselves until marriage. Zayn’s mind flies to the thought of Liam meeting a nice girl in the village, courting her and marrying her and raising a lovely, traditional family together. So much rage and jealousy course through him at the thought that a few scraps of parchment laying on his bedside table burst spontaneously into flame.

*

As soon as Zayn rounds the corner into his living room the next morning, he’s nearly blinded by the sight of what appears to be a gigantic burning ball of ribbon and glitter. He squawks in surprise and backpedals, intending to scramble into the kitchen to fill a pot with water when he hears a voice from the center of the mess.

“Zayn!” The light from what Zayn is slowly realizing is actually a mass perched on top of Harry’s head fades a little. “Sorry - lost control of the enchantment for a moment,” Harry pants. The light fades more and Zayn is able to discern the sun-shaped hat that Harry's sporting, complete with rays of yellow material jutting from his head in all directions.

"I already don't care," Zayn says flatly. He hadn't gotten enough sleep and his mood is suffering as a result.

Harry frowns. "It's fun."

"But why?" He doesn't think a rational answer exists (they often don't when Harry is involved) but it can't hurt to try.

"The summer solstice is coming up!” Harry hollers, as though Zayn is a bad wizard for forgetting. “And guess who’s invited us to celebrate?”

Zayn’s stomach does a rapid turn of equal parts anticipation and nervousness because he has a sneaking suspicion of who Harry is referencing.

Louis sidles up behind him. He’s noiseless, but Zayn can tell he’s there because Harry’s face is suddenly contorting stupidly as he tries to hide a grin.

“There’ll be alcohol,” he announces, waving two big green bottles over Zayn’s shoulders and in front of his face.

“Where’d you get that?” Zayn demands. “What if Liam doesn’t approve?”

Louis moves to stare at Zayn incredulously. “Someone’s become a goody two-shoes,” he sneers. “Don’t worry about it, I got it from Niall. Believe it or not, leaving the house once in a while has its benefits.”

Zayn scowls.

"This is great." Harry beams from under his ridiculous headgear. "Now maybe you can actually ask him about his sexual preferences instead of hiding behind spells."

Zayn's scowl intensifies.

*

Around eight o’clock that evening, they’re on the familiar way down the path to Liam’s cottage. The day had been heavy and humid, but the air is light now, perfumed with the scent of the blooming honey locusts along the path. Despite Zayn’s protests, Louis has brought along the bottles, and Zayn can hear them clinking together softly with his steps.

Liam displays the kind of joy at their arrival that Zayn didn’t know was possible to conjure up for expected guests. Ushering them into the kitchen, he carefully moves a sleeping pair of rabbits to the counter and bids them to sit at the table.

Surprisingly, when Louis takes out the alcohol, Liam produces four glossy tumblers from a cabinet. He winks at Zayn as he sets them on the tabletop. “I’m really not as much of a prude as you think I am,” he says playfully. Zayn blushes and busies himself with preparing a drink, reaching for one of Louis’ bottles.

“Ah-ah,” Louis reprimands as he snatches the bottle away. “I’ll tend the drink tonight.”

“Here,” Liam says, standing up. “I’ve got some fresh lemonade in the icebox you can mix it with.”

“Thank you, dear,” Louis hums, accepting the pitcher that Liam hands him. His bottles clink for a few moments and then he’s handing around glasses full to the brim.

“How much is in this, Lou?” Zayn asks, eyeing the glass suspiciously after the first sip has his throat burning.

Louis winks. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve got plenty.”

*

Zayn realizes at some point in the evening that Liam is a very friendly drunk. Fifteen minutes after he finishes off the third drink Louis mixes him, his hand wanders to rest on Zayn’s knee.

Zayn’s heart skips a half beat, but he remains calm, thinking about how lots of people like to touch indiscriminately once they’ve had a few and that it’s no big deal. Liam’s hand slowly creeps closer to the inside of his thigh as time goes on, but then the contact is broken when he accepts another drink from Louis, and his hand doesn’t return.

Zayn has to leave to the bathroom - he always pisses out his liquor too quickly, and he can tell that Louis and Harry are dangerously close to making out. When he finishes and stumbles out the door, he nearly runs into Liam, who’s leaning in the hallway outside.

“Hiii,” Liam slurs. “Lou‘nHarry…I thought I should leave…”

He sounds quite funny, so naturally Zayn begins to laugh, almost falling over because he’s so amused.

Liam laughs too, and doesn’t protest when Zayn moves closer to him. So maybe he isn’t quite drunk enough to necessitate careening into Liam’s body like he is, but Liam doesn’t need to know that.

“Oops,” he says, giggling, when he finds their upper bodies suddenly pressed up together. Liam is silent, but Zayn can feel the ever so slight pressure of his hands on his back. Then he feels something else graze the shell of his ear and he realizes that Liam’s lips are brushing his hair.

“You’re...nice,” he mumbles, and Zayn can smell the alcohol heavy on his breath. His own breath catches in his throat.

“You’re nice too,” he manages. His thought process is muddled, but he’s still cognizant enough to be freaking out a little over their position. Liam continues to nuzzle at his hair, then he’s kissing down his jawline and pausing just an inch or two from Zayn’s lips.

Zayn feels the tease of Liam’s hot breath over his parted lips and he presses up to connect their mouths after only a moment’s hesitation. He doesn’t know what’s going on but Liam’s hands are tightening on his back and it feels good, and he just wants to make Liam feel the best he ever has.

Impulsively, he drops to his knees in front of Liam. Liam looks surprised, but shakily he threads a hand through Zayn’s hair. Zayn’s face quite gracefully lands on Liam’s crotch, and he can feel Liam’s erection through his trousers. His hand comes up to palm it. Liam sighs with a hint of a whimper betraying him at the end. His hips roll and Zayn clumsily reaches for the button of his trousers. Liam watches him dazedly, reaching to help push the clothing down once Zayn has the button undone.

Zayn’s eyelids lower at the sight before him, and he gets straight to work. It’s been a while, but sucking cock wasn’t really something he’d forgotten over the years, especially with the heat of the alcohol in the back of his throat taking him straight back to his years at school.

Liam seems hot and feverish and desperate, fingers closing on strands of Zayn’s hair as he works his mouth. He mumbles a single curse, but that’s all the sound Zayn hears him make until he comes.

Sooner than he’d expected, Zayn is wiping his mouth and looking dazedly up at Liam. His jaw is slack and he looks down at Zayn almost as though he’s confused. His face slowly reddens, and Zayn can almost see his disbelief at what had just happened forming. Slowly, he tucks himself back into his trousers, and then he leaves quickly, turning the corner into the bathroom and leaving Zayn quite suddenly alone, on his knees in the hallway. Zayn blinks, and then he hears Liam retching in the bathroom.

Flushing and shocked, he stands up. He feels a lot less drunk now, his jaw hurts, and he wishes he could just slip through the cracks in the floorboards and disappear.

In the kitchen, he practically snatches Louis and Harry up by their collars. “We’re leaving,” he snaps. “Now.”

Something about his tone must be truly grim, because Louis untangles a hand from Harry’s hair and shoots him a meaningful glance before they get up without protest. Liam appears in the doorway and mutters a farewell just as Zayn is pulling his coat on, but he refuses to meet his eyes. He doesn’t think Liam would want to look at him anyway.

*

His memories the next morning of the night before are vague, but he knows that at some point he’d sat in their kitchen, face down on the table top, sobbing his eyes out as he related the events in their entirety to Louis and Harry. Mostly sobered up by then, they’d listened and patted his back reassuringly and helped him to bed with a cup of water on his bedside table. It isn’t the first time Zayn has been grateful for them, but he’d never felt the kind of overwhelming affection for his apprentices that he feels now.

If he thought he’d felt bad the night before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s embarrassed, furious, and hungover. Not even the fennel tea that Harry brings him soothes his headache.

Eventually Louis and Harry stop trying to cheer him up and leave him to languish in the solitude of his own room. He knows that it’s childish and stupid for him to be so worked up over a crush, but he thinks it’s incredibly unfair that things couldn’t have worked out just this one time for him. Liam plagues his dreams, his ashamed face flashing again and again behind his eyelids as he tosses and turns through the nights.

Finally, on the third day, Louis barges in.

“Take a shower,” he orders. “We’re going to see Liam. This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Zayn states flatly from where he’s curled up on his side, cuddling with Hester since she seems to be the only one that can sympathize with his heartbreak.

“Honestly,” Louis hisses, and Zayn blinks at the fervor in his voice. “I’m not just going to sit around and watch what could be a great relationship suffocate to death because you two are too idiotic to communicate properly.”

Zayn closes his eyes. “It isn’t worth it.”

Louis makes a face like he’s sucked on a lemon. “Yes, that’s the spirit, Zayn. Just keep telling yourself that it isn’t worth it and you can keep on living in this house in the middle of nowhere with your cat until you become a bitter old man who never loved anyone.”

Zayn sits up, annoyed now. “Maybe that’s what I want,” he snarls.

“But it isn’t,” Louis says, tone pleading. “You’re happy around him. I’ve never seen you happier.”

Zayn shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s obviously not interested.” It pains him physically to say it out loud, and he curses himself internally for how weak it makes him feel.

Louis sits down on the edge of Zayn's bed. “There’s a good chance he’s just confused,” he says gently. “I mean...you didn’t exactly ease into things.”

Zayn snorts a humorless laugh.

"Maybe you should have a little faith in him," Louis continues. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's feeling the same things you are right now - though, knowing him, he's probably funneling his stress into something productive and not existing as a useless, moping lump -"

"Enough," Zayn says. "Fine. I'll go see him. Tomorrow."

Louis sighs. "You know you aren't going to hold yourself to that."

"Well, it's the best you'll get out of me," Zayn tells him stubbornly. "Go away."

As it turns out, the probability of Zayn's procrastination becomes irrelevant when Liam knocks on the front door that evening.

Zayn hears it from his room and curses. Soon Louis is pounding on his door, practically screeching at him to come out. So Zayn wraps himself in the biggest, coziest sweater he owns because it makes him feel secure and slowly emerges, casting glances down the hallway until he determines that Liam must be in the living room.

As soon as Zayn appears, Louis all but drags Harry out the door, making a loud and brief farewell.

"Hi," Liam says. Zayn detects a sheepish note in his tone, and his shoulders are drooping. Pip sits next to him, and for once Hester isn't trying to attack him - just staring up at Liam silently and reproachfully from Zayn's side.

Zayn doesn't say anything, just crosses his arms and waits for Liam to carry on. This is his own territory, Liam shouldn't have shown up expecting Zayn to have a speech prepared.

He clears his throat, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. "I-I've been feeling rather horrible, and I think we should talk about what happened last week."

Zayn nods stiffly.

Liam coughs, face already red. “I hope that you can excuse my...behavior, I’m not normally one to run out like that. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me." His deep, earnest eyes meet Zayn's squarely. “You - you gave me something I've never experienced before, and I guess I was just so shocked that my natural response was to run. That's no excuse, I know. I feel terrible. I just - I don't know how else to put this but I've found that I've developed feelings for you." Liam cuts himself off, face red, wringing his hands together and looking as though he was afraid he'd said too much.

Zayn's eyes widen, and he steps forward. "You...you don't think...I haven't scared you off or something, then?" He feels slightly dizzy, and he’s suddenly regretting his warm clothing as sweat pricks at the nape of his neck.

Liam shakes his head fervently. “I’ve been drawn to you since I first saw you,” he says. "I was just very drunk and I shouldn't have let things happen the way they did."

He speaks with an earnest and practiced tone that makes Zayn think he must have been rehearsing these words for hours. He's a little touched, especially after spending three days mourning the idea that Liam wanted nothing to do with him.

"I'd like to do this properly, though, if you'll let me," Liam continues. "Will you come to my house? Tonight. For dinner."

Zayn nods, fingers playing with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. "I'd love to," he says softly.

*

Harry and Louis are there to fuss over his appearance with him long before he’s supposed to be at Liam’s house. Zayn agonizes over his outfit for what seems like hours, finally settling on something modest but well-tailored. He can hardly remember the last time he’d been on a proper date.

Harry dusts his shoulders and Louis pats his hair one last time as they stand in the foyer.

“I think he’s ready,” Harry says, looking Zayn up and down judiciously.

“He’ll do,” Louis replies.

“Good, because I need to be there in fifteen minutes,” Zayn says, glancing at the clock. Harry and Louis give him their best wishes, and Zayn can tell that they're eager to have the house to themselves for the night.

**  
  
**

He hems and haws his way down the road, not wanting to seem overeager by arriving too early, but not wanting to be an asshole by getting there too late. On a whim, he plucks a few sprigs of the cream-colored honey locust flowers from their branches to take to Liam.

He takes a deep breath at Liam's doorstep, but just before he knocks, the door swings open on its own. Liam is standing there, and for a short moment both of them are silent, breathless, taking each other in.

"Those are beautiful," Liam says then. "Let me get them in some water. Hi."

Zayn smiles, genuine. He still has a few butterflies but his nerves have vanished for the most part in Liam's company. It somehow feels exactly right for him to be there, and fitting right in isn't a feeling Zayn experiences often.

"Come in," Liam says, waving him in with the hand not holding the flowers. "Dinner's nearly ready."

There isn't the usual ruckus echoing around the cottage, and Zayn notices that there aren't nearly as many animals scurrying around as there usually are - just a few sleepy birds roosting in the rafters. Fondly, he pictures Liam sternly telling his little friends that he needed some peace and quiet for the evening.

The food is fantastic - Liam's culinary talents seem to go beyond just pies. Of course, even if he had been served dirt on a plate, Zayn doesn't think he'd be able to say anything disparaging to the hopeful face across the table. Conversation flows easily, with Zayn carefully skirting around the topic of the past three days of misery he spent moping in his room. It isn't difficult to avoid, though, and he gets the feeling that Liam had a rough time as well.

Zayn insists on helping with the dishes, and starts the water in the kitchen sink while Liam clears the table. He ducks into the cabinet below the basin to find some soap, and when he straightens he has to stifle a gasp. Several small frogs the color of tea leaves are splashing around in the bottom of the sink, emitting the occasional croak. As he watches, another one leaps from the box of marigolds on the window sill and lands on his empty plate.

“Liam?” he calls hesitantly.

Liam’s head pokes around the doorway and his eyes widen when he sees the frogs. “Oh, dear,” he says in embarrassment. He hurries over and scoops all four of the frogs into his hand deftly, depositing them on the sill and pulling the window closed. The sun is setting outside, barely peeking over the top of the treeline and casting Liam’s garden in a golden wash of light.

"It's beautiful," Zayn says. "The trees block our view at my place."

"You'll have to come over more often," Liam says. Zayn almost startles, because Liam's voice is closer than he'd expected. He turns to face him slowly, barely breathing, until he can feel the warm puff of Liam's breath over his lips.

Their mouths meet without any of the frantic impulsion of the other night. This time, it’s more of an exploration, a consideration. They break apart just as Zayn’s heart begins to race, and he can feel Liam’s breath shudder.

"Do - do you want to see the rest of the house?" Liam asks breathlessly - hopefully.

Zayn almost laughs at his lack of tact, but he's too giddy to really care. Liam shows him the root cellar and the guest room, Zayn playing along gamely, but inevitably they end up in front of his bedroom.

"Is this your bed?" Zayn asks in wonder when he sees the structure in the middle of the room. It has the wooden frame and mattress of a regular bed, but any normalcy ends there. There are plants literally sprouting from all over the bed - flowers growing on the edges, patches of moss near the foot, wandering vines creating a canopy over it. Zayn even spots mushrooms peeking from underneath it.

Liam nods shyly.

"How is this stuff growing?" Zayn asks incredulously, gaze landing on what seems to be a small strawberry bush sticking straight out of the mattress near the headboard.

Liam shrugs. "My presence helps it along. This happens to any place I sleep in for a long time."

Zayn stares, finally beginning to appreciate just how in tune Liam is with his magic. He moves closer to examine the bed more closely, picturing in his head how different his own wrought iron bedframe is.

There's little negotiation before they're kissing again on the edge of the bed - they almost seem to work in agreement already. Zayn tips his head back against one of the bedposts once they break apart, breaths already coming more closely together than usual.

Liam, for his own part, looks nearly overwhelmed. As Zayn studies his expression, it changes to slight exasperation as he glances over Zayn's shoulder. “Pip,” he says sternly.

Zayn realizes with a start that the dog is sitting only a foot from Liam’s bed, staring up at him intently. Liam gives him a very pointed look, and he whines and trots out of the room.

Zayn laughs breathlessly, everything suddenly seeming a bit more real.

Liam laughs nervously, but his expression sobers almost immediately. “We - we don’t have to do anything more,” Liam says, sounding a bit flustered. "If you don't want to."

“I wouldn't mind,” Zayn says, smiling coyly. He pauses. “Do you want to?”

Liam nods fervently. “This, uh, is my first time, though,” he says, blushing madly.

“S’okay,” Zayn murmurs. “I’ll show you what to do.”

They take off their own clothing, both too shy to remove it from the other. Their lips don’t part for more than a few seconds at a time, though - the pull to stay in contact is nearly inexorable.

"M'gonna need you to stretch me with your fingers first, because it's been a while," Zayn mumbles against Liam’s lips. Liam pulls back and nods earnestly. He twists to rifle through the drawer of his bedside table and produces a small bottle of clear golden oil. Zayn can smell it almost as soon as Liam unscrews the cap, and wonders how long he’ll be smelling sunflowers.

He leans back against the headboard and lets his legs splay apart, exposing himself to Liam. "Kay, just get your fingers in me, yeah?" Instructing Liam seems to have done away with most of his own self-consciousness, but he still blushes a bit when he says it.

Liam moves slowly and cautiously, pausing when Zayn winces. His motions are sure, though, and Zayn figures that he must have done this to himself at some point because he makes fairly quick work of finding the spot that makes Zayn's toes curl.

Zayn can’t help himself but glance down as Liam works his fingers inside of him. Liam is more well endowed than Zayn remembers, or maybe he's just paying more attention now.

"Okay," he says, shakily. "Come here."

Liam places his hands gingerly on Zayn's hips as though he's already worried that he'll hurt him. Zayn can feel the light sheen of sweat on Liam's palms, but he finds his nerves endearing. Liam's worrying his lip with his teeth, obviously trying so hard to get this right.

"Liam," Zayn says gently. "You're overthinking it. You aren't going to break me."

Liam looks at him and nods, blushing. Without breaking eye contact, he eases forward. Zayn draws a sharp breath at the initial burn and Liam pauses immediately. "I'm fine, go," Zayn mutters distractedly, trying to focus on relaxing his muscles. Once Liam is finally inside of him, Zayn lets his hands lay limp on Liam's back. He can feel Liam's breath in hot puffs on the side of his neck, though he can't see his face anymore.

"All right, Liam?" he asks.

"Yeah. Better than all right," comes Liam's voice, muffled by Zayn's skin.

"You - you can start moving whenever," Zayn says after a moment, blushing himself.

Liam presses a small kiss to his neck, and then his hips flex shallowly into Zayn, just enough to rock their bodies a little bit. Zayn breathes in at the feeling of his own cock rubbing against Liam's abs. Liam presses more kisses to his hair and his thrusts continue, coming closer together.

With Zayn propped up like he is, he can move around a bit, and that's just what he does - shifts until Liam is rubbing over the spot inside of him that makes his breaths run ragged.

"Yeah, okay - little harder," he breathes, eyes slipping closed. He may have forgotten just how nice good sex could be.

Liam complies - he's doing so well, really, for his first time - his strokes steadying and intensifying now that he knows he has a good spot.

Zayn tips his head back to lean on the pillow and his fingers press harder on Liam's back. Liam, too, has tightened his grip on Zayn's hips so he can steady his own thrusts. Further back now, Zayn can see his face again - the part of his lips and the tilt of his eyebrows as his hips snap into Zayn harder.

 

Zayn pulls Liam’s face down again so he can kiss him. After a moment Liam breaks away to mouth along his neck. “Go on. Leave a mark,” Zayn tells him breathlessly, and whimpers when he feels Liam’s teeth.

Liam pulls away and looks down at Zayn, breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated wide. “I’m - I’m close,” he says, voice hoarse.

Zayn’s hand moves to his own cock, touching himself in time to Liam’s movements. “Go on,” he manages, surprised at the huskiness of his voice.

Liam’s back arches and he sighs deeply as he strains against Zayn, hips twitching minutely.

Zayn throws his head back as he comes apart only seconds after Liam does, hand still tightly closed around his pulsing cock.

They both spend a few moments gasping for breath, but soon they're grinning and giggling in exhaustion. Liam pulls himself ever so carefully from Zayn and flops down next to him. The sun had dipped below the horizon a while ago, and the candlestick by Liam's bed is burning low.

Liam’s arms pull him close in the dark, just the way Zayn likes. He gets a soft kiss on the nape of his neck right before he drifts off, and he falls asleep with a little smile on his face.

Zayn wakes to the first pale rays of sunlight beaming through Liam’s bedroom window. He usually isn’t awake at this time, but he feels curiously alert. Of course, he doesn’t have much of a choice, since Liam’s windows seem positioned precisely to let the sun beam directly down onto the face of anyone sleeping in his bed.

A smile tugs at his lips when he sees the pale violets that have sprouted through the gaps in the bedframe and create a crown around Liam's sleeping face. As he shifts more, he realizes that thin, delicate tendrils of vine have wound their way over his prone form, almost as though Liam's strange earth-bed is embracing him.

A fat, lazy bumblebee drifts in through the open window. Zayn watches as it lights upon one of the violets above Liam's head. Its weight bends the stem comically, and as it rummages for pollen, the flower droops so low that the bee’s fuzzy behind begins to tickle the end of Liam's nose.

Zayn's smile grows as Liam's nose scrunches up and his eyes blink open blearily. The bumblebee buzzes on to another flower.

“Hi,” Liam says softly, voice somehow clear at the point between wakefulness and rest.

Zayn smiles softly at him,

Liam clears his throat, cheeks pinkening. “Last night was...rather unexpected.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow, staying silent while he waits for Liam to continue.

“That is,” Liam blusters, “not that I didn’t enjoy it, it was just...rather frivolous of me -”

“Liam,” Zayn cuts him off, laughing. “I wanted what happened last night just as much as you did, I promise. You don’t need to explain yourself.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Liam’s jaw. “I had a wonderful time,” he whispers.

Liam’s blush intensifies, but he smiles and flops back on the bed. “You’re wonderful,” he murmurs at the ceiling. Zayn giggles and lays back too, hoping Liam won't object to being cuddled into.

“You’re good, then?” Zayn asks gently. Liam’s hand strokes his hair.

“Yeah. Yes. It was...even better than I imagined.” Liam pauses. “Thank you.”

Zayn grins. “It was really my pleasure.” Liam snorts.

They lay there for a comfortable ten minutes and Zayn is just beginning to doze off again when Liam shifts.

"You're probably hungry," he says. "I'll make us breakfast."

Zayn would really rather just cuddle, but he follows Liam to the kitchen anyway and sits at the table where he'd had tea so long ago.

Liam brings him fruit so ripe that it practically falls apart between his fingers and freshly baked bread that releases little curls of steam when he breaks it open.

"This is wonderful," Zayn tells him. "How did you get this fruit at this time of year?"

Liam tries to wink at him but doesn't do a very good job. "Magic," he says cheekily, and Zayn rolls his eyes.

 **  
**  
They walk back to Zayn's cottage together. As they round the bend to his front door, Zayn glances at the fronds of sumac framing the entrance to his yard. He can’t help but think that even though it seems they’re at the apex of summer, the leaves will be turning scarlet before they know it. Somehow, though, he doesn’t think the coming winter will be quite so cold as the ones he’s spent alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, lovelies, for reading. This was one of my favorite things ever to write. I'd love to hear what you think of it in the comment section - please, do not refrain from any constructive criticism you have to offer.


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